About Those Hobbies

One could say that getting back to my past interests can possibly breath new light in my older years and so far, it has been successful. Hobbies have created a deeper purpose for myself, and it makes me happy. A connection between my inner and outer world and how I view it. A happy distraction from living in the past and pushing me to move forward. Or should I state, this is helping to keep my sanity and pull me from this dark place I have inhabited for the past 16 years (even darker within the past 4 years). Getting back to photography, my love of cooking, Labradors (trust me, it is a hobby and the best kind to have) and picking back up my genetic green thumb, and let’s not forget a try at the blogging scene. Oh, and tattoos; not sure if that is really a hobby but it brings me pain, which makes me forget about life for a while and after a session I feel like a better person. I call it my pain therapy. These hobbies truly have helped getting me to the next chapter of me and enjoying the fuck out of it. Shall we dive into the history?

Photos: When I was in my teens, I was not the best version of myself (who was?). I was more than the black sheep of the family. I was always getting into trouble with the law, had to go to court a bunch of times; DUI, weed charges, got caught smoking dope on school grounds my freshman year in high school. In return for these incidents, I was court ordered therapy, community service, fines out the butt hole, alcoholics anonymous, narcotics anonymous, no rehab. I was a hot mess, did all the drugs imaginable even dealt here and there for the local pizza delivery dude. Because of all my honesty with my therapist she recommended that I find a hobby. This led to learning photography, the old school way, darkrooms and developing my own 35mm negatives. My parents even got me a kick-ass camera and a darkroom set. Also paid for classes at our local community center and college classes in the city. SHIT! I even went to SCAD for photography but failed out (that’s another story). Great memory from SCAD, I use to tell my classmates that one day they would be sitting on the “John”, taking a fat crap, pick up a National Geographic magazine, and while flipping through see my photographs from far off places; I would be famous! I loved it! More happy memories of hours in the dark room jamming to tunes. Fast forward decades later and I decided to pick up a camera again; I invested in a digital one! I learned that all the knowledge I had years ago came back quickly and started on my digital photography journey. My world view through a lens is coming through differently from when I was younger, and I find it soothing to find a new niche in something I once loved to do. My only wish regarding this hobby, I wish I knew where all my old camera equipment disappeared to; I hope I didn’t throw them away. Been tearing my house apart with no luck; my fingers are still crossed. Look at my “Flipping Pix” section to see some of my old/terrible work from way back when and the new digital adventure.

The Domestic Chef: Rachel Ray was my culinary inspiration till she started making every dish into a “burger” version. She was my first inspiration to being a home cook and for me, being in the kitchen, was therapeutic. I could be creative, miss-matching recipes based on my tastes, the act of cooking was methodical and task oriented and then feeding my family years later brought the joy. Cooking has been a continuous effort that has always been a positive experience for me. I have learned now that all the past 15 years I have spent in the kitchen has turned into my own personal safe space. No one bothers me unless I ask for assistance. It almost feels like when you were little and hiding in the downstairs closet and no one knew where you were. I could hide yet be surrounded by people. I even got the husband to join in and let me tell you, that man can cook a steak to perfection! We cook together about once a week. It’s nice to have a lifelong constant that I enjoy, and my skills and palate only get better with time. So why not share some of the recipes I have created on this blog? Another view into my soul!

The Doggos: Not sure how to describe The Honey and The Chubby as a hobby but I see hobbies are supposed to be things that we invest time in, pertains to something one enjoys and brings personal happiness. They are a daily reminder of what pure love and loyalty is with a huge dose of positivity; they constantly make me smile/laugh. As I have been navigating this new transition, I started out with getting Chubby and quickly realized that part of my future calling and integration into the second half of my life I needed to have more of them. Queue Honey’s entrance. What I know, looking into the future, will include multiple labs, on a few acres with a small barndominium and no close neighbors. I see tranquility on this property with all the things I love. One could say this hobby finally got kick-started into fruition. And is a must from here on out.

Tattoos: I was a good girl and waited till I was 18 to get my first tattoo, while I was at SCAD. A tribal ankle thing. My mother hated it. Fast forward through the years I got a back of the neck friendship tattoo, a god-awful tramp stamp, eyes of Ra near each ovary and a sunburst on my big toe, which makes it look like I have a harry toe. I know, some REALLY great decisions, I was full of them back then. Once I moved to Florida I got a tribal of a bear doing an under-butt thing, was representing my first lab, Buddy. When Mark and I got together, my contract at work ended and I started a new job that was a double in salary; I promised myself if I got that job I was going to start on a sea life themed sleeve. It was a commitment, and it took me 6 years of random sessions and it’s still not done but I think I am. During those sessions I was using the pain as a coping mechanism and the healing process was a distraction from my home life. I was spread too thin, and this helped me survive. I know, probably not a healthy choice but it worked at the time till I went for my second sleeve. It’s the start of a memorial of not only loves ones but the death of my youth. This tattoo was the trigger that something was way off base with me. I was intentionally hurting myself to get comfort, but it wasn’t working. This was about the time I finally realized that I was falling apart and needed to seek help. I will finish the sleeve when the time is right but for now the need to feel pain has subsided and I don’t crave it like I use to. Don’t get me wrong, I love the whole tattoo process and the outcome, that will forever be a part of me.

Master Propagator: My family has a long history of horticulturists. As a little girl, my grandparents built and maintained victory gardens, vegetable gardens and kept the most exquisite landscaping. It was a “keeping up with the Jones’” situation in my hometown, a competition. There were garden parties and many local community gardens that my family participated in; it was the thing to. Armed with this green thumb heritage and hours upon hours of time spent outside tending to them I was destined to have the same fate. Only on a different scale. Over there years I have had vegetable gardens, house plants and tropical landscapes. There was a period of about 10 years where I wasn’t really into it, I had other things to focus on and myself was not one of them. I did maintain some of the yard landscaping but only the minimum till about 2 years ago. I saw the trend of the newer generation getting into house plants, succulents, etc. So, I said why not! It may have a exploded a bit, as you will see in my plant chore chronicles. I have killed every succulent I have encountered, lost some tropical ones, brought a handful of plants back from the brink of total death. I like the challenge but have forever given up on succulents. The healing properties of plant mothering have turned a page in my life’s perspective regarding trials and tribulations, death and thriving, and tons of patience. Not to toot my own horn but I feel that I am making my grandparents very proud, and I understand fully the joy they had making their creations.

Song inspo: Dirty Heads – Bright Side